


Whore

by LeighhVanMonroeXx



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Biting, Choking, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Face Slapping, Filthy, Hickeys, It's Utter Filth, Jealousy, Krays, Paris (City), Possessive Behavior, Power Play, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, family heritage, it's just pure smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:26:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighhVanMonroeXx/pseuds/LeighhVanMonroeXx
Summary: A faint beep from behind the door alerted Michelle that her guest had arrived. A glance at her watch told her they were bang on time. Punctuality. How delightful. Michelle smiled a little, her back still to the door as she placed a candle down on the coffee table.“Punctuality. Now that’s something I like.” The brunette remarked with a little grin.“Then it’s such a shame you don’t possess that quality yourself.”That voice. That all too familiar voice sent shivers down her spine and caused Michelle to go completely stiff. She turned around, blue eyes confirming she wasn’t dreaming.“Jim fucking Moriarty.”





	Whore

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I've been working on this piece for quite a while now. It's just pure filthy smut. Nothing else. 
> 
> It's gonna be so awkward when I meet Andrew Scott at Wales Con in December. XD 
> 
>  
> 
> Ever so slightly based off the song "Whore" by In This Moment. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The wheels of the plane touched ground at Charles De Gaulle airport half an hour later than they should have done. Joys of air traffic control and various strikes at other European airports. As if Michelle Kray needed anything else to irritate her this afternoon. It was bad enough that her latest client had decided to meet in Paris, but because of recent terror attacks, airport security there had been majorly pushed up. It took almost another hour to get through passport control. If there was one thing you didn’t want, it was a frustrated crime boss. Michelle Kray had her own little criminal empire in London and across the globe. Since her rise to power, there had been rumours flying around that she was related to the infamous Kray twins. She never confirmed or denied anything. Michelle liked to shroud herself in mystery – believed it helped to build up an air of intimidation. 

The limousine ride to her hotel was cold and silent. Michelle merely spent the journey texting her client to apologise for her lateness, ask if everything was still planned. He agreed to rearrange the appointment for later that night, meet in her hotel room for ease and discretion. Michelle appreciated a man who knew how to make her life easier. After checking in, the brunette made her way to her suite where the first thing on her agenda was a bath. Plane journeys always left her stressed and feeling incredibly unclean. What time was it now? 7.30pm. She had a couple of hours until he was coming around. Plenty of time to bathe, relax and prepare herself for business. Champagne on ice whilst having a soak in the bubble bath, sounded like bliss to her. 

One hot bath and half a bottle of champagne later, Michelle was readying herself for her meeting. She had dried and curled her hair, applied her soft pink makeup to perfection and dressed herself in her trademark white Westwood suit. She poured two glasses of red wine and placed them on the coffee table in the lounge area. Now, she was ready and waiting for her client. Not much information had been shared between them. Michelle never really cared about names or anything that came attached with it. All she needed to know was what, who or how much. Sometimes her clients liked to meet in person, nothing strange about that. She remembered one male client had told her that it meant if anyone saw the messages they’d assume an affair at worst. Michelle didn’t really care. Sometimes face to face meetings were better. They offered a much more personal touch – which made sense with this client. Apparently, they’d caught their partner cheating and wanted revenge. The personal meeting would allow a lengthy discussion on that. There were plenty of options after all. Her client had been told to get the spare card key from the front desk. She had informed the clerk that she was expecting someone so it wouldn’t look strange. 

_Beep._

A faint beep from behind the door alerted Michelle that her guest had arrived. A glance at her watch told her they were bang on time. Punctuality. How delightful. Michelle smiled a little, her back still to the door as she placed a candle down on the coffee table. 

“Punctuality. Now that’s something I like.” The brunette remarked with a little grin. 

“Then it’s such a shame you don’t possess that quality yourself.” 

That voice. That all too familiar voice sent shivers down her spine and caused Michelle to go completely stiff. She turned around, blue eyes confirming she wasn’t dreaming. 

“Jim fucking Moriarty.” The lack of impression was perfectly evident in her tone and her new stance. 

To say that there was a very heated history between Michelle and Jim would have been an incredible understatement. She loathed him entirely. He was always getting in her way, interfering with her plans. He had tried, in the past, to blackmail her into working for him. Michelle hadn’t been persuaded in the slightest. Not even when he tied her to a chair and had her beaten senseless. If anything, it just fuelled her hatred of the consulting criminal even more. In all honesty, it was her own fault. In the very early years of her criminal career, Michelle had used Jim Moriarty to climb the ladder – her kingmaker, so to speak. He already had a name for himself and the brunette had seen that as an opportunity to help herself. Of course Jim knew that she had used his name to help herself – he didn’t care, he wasn’t the sentimental type – but Jim Moriarty had a favours policy and he didn’t like it when he was rejected. And oh, did Michelle Kray reject him in the biggest way possible.

“Now is that anyway to greet daddy?” Jim asked with a little smirk, letting the door close softly behind him. Hands in his pockets, he slowly sauntered into the room, an air of arrogance surrounding him entirely. “Did you miss me?” 

“About as much as I’d miss a cancerous tumour.” Michelle replied, arms folding across her chest. That earned an exaggerated pout off Jim. 

“Aww, come on, Shelley…” He took a few steps closer to her. “That’s no way to talk to your client.” Brown eyes flickered down to the glasses on the coffee table and another smirk came to his lips. “Don’t mind if I do.” Jim reached down and took one of the glasses, taking a slow sip of the rich, red liquid before humming softly. “Nice choice.”

“Cut the crap, Jim. What do you want?” Michelle looked as unimpressed as the second she saw him, arms still folded across her chest. Jim rose a brow and placed the now empty glass back on the table. He looked at her as if the answer was completely obvious. 

“You got my messages. You know exactly why I’m here.” 

Michelle rose a brow, arms slipping down to her sides. “I know for a fact you don’t have a wife, a girlfriend, or anyone significant in your life.” 

“Oh but I do, Shelley.” 

“I’ve told you time after time not to call me that!” She snapped. Jim merely chuckled. Asshole. He knew very well that she hated being called that. The silly pet name he’d given her when she first met him – back when she was willing to play that role. 

“You see, I do have someone significant in my life and she has been incredibly unfaithful to me.” Jim took it upon himself to take a seat on one of the plush armchairs before helping himself to another glass of wine. “You can’t keep seeing your little Italian Stallion, Shelley, you just can’t. You’re my girl whether you like it or not.” Michelle laughed. A full, incredibly humoured laugh. Not at his little threat about being unable to see Lorenzo, head of the Italian Mafia family she’d had some intimate involvement in, no. Michelle was laughing at Jim’s delusion that she was ‘his girl.’

“You’re insane if you think that. You don’t run my life, you don’t have anything to do with me at all. If my memory serves correctly, I turned down your little offer and since then, you’ve been acting like an angsty teenager ever since.” Michelle took a seat in the other arm chair, her face twisted into a scowl again. That little smirk was still lingering in the corners of his mouth. It drove her crazy. 

“You might have turned down the offer, Shelley, but I’ve still had my eyes planted firmly on you. My little queen of crime, you’re so adorable. Built up your own little empire based on those mysteries around your heritage, it’s quite smart really. But you see…when I take an interest in someone…it’s not an option…and daddy always gets what he wants.” Jim sipped at his wine, dark eyes never once leaving her baby blues. He loved seeing her get all frustrated. 

“So you dragged me all the way to Paris…for nothing?” She scoffed a little and stood up. “You’ve really outdone yourself for impracticality. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have flights to book. Oh, and for the record, you didn’t make an offer, you attempted to blackmail me…and I don’t appreciate blackmail. Family trait.” Michelle smirked and began heading across the room to retrieve her phone from the consort table. Before she even got close, Jim had one hand tangled in her hair and the other around her throat. He shoved her up against the wall, ignoring the little groans of pain coming from her. 

“Struggle all you want darling, you know how much I love it.” He chuckled softly, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh behind her ear. Michelle grunted, scraping the heel of her shoes down his shin. Jim gasped in pain and pushed himself away from her. The brunette took the chance to make a beeline to the door. The escape was short lived – within moments Jim had his hand tangled in her curls again. This time he pulled her back into the bedroom and threw her onto the bed. Michelle landed with an ungraceful bounce and a humiliating sound. She looked up and watched Jim gracefully hang his jacket on the back of the arm chair in the corner of the room before loosening his tie. 

“You really are as stubborn as a mule, Shelley. Always were.” He sounded almost amused as he lay his tie neatly on the dresser, turning his attention back to her when he was done. Michelle narrowed her eyes and offered an arrogant smirk. 

“Like I said: family trait.” Jim merely chuckled at that, watching through narrow eyes as Michelle moved up the bed. “You’ve creased my suit. I’m insulted.” Another chuckle from the consulting criminal. 

“Shelley, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll have much more than a creased suit to worry about.” His brown eyes flashed dark with lust and wanton desire as he approached her, crawling up the bed. The brunette smirked and grabbed his collar, pulling him closer. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” She whispered, lips brushing against his. Jim growled and bit at her bottom lip, eliciting a small gasp of pain from Michelle. 

“Where did we go wrong, Shelley? We were so good together...” Jim mused, twisting a lock of her hair around his index finger. She laughed coldly and wriggled beneath him. 

“We were never together, Jim. We slept together – used each other.” There was poison in her tone. Pure poison and malice. Jim smirked at her and pulled on the lock of hair, making her wince. 

“I know that, silly girl.” He began with a small growl in his tone. “But if you had just been a good little pet instead of the manipulative little bitch you are…” Jim’s hand had crept up to her throat at this point and had begun to squeeze; not enough to stop her breathing, but enough to make her incredibly uncomfortable. “…Then you could have done much greater things.” Michelle’s eyes were beginning to flutter with each harder squeeze of Jim’s hand. She wanted so badly to just punch that grin off his smug face, shove him away and run, but that wasn’t part of the game. Besides, the current throbbing between her legs needed desperate attention. Why did he always do this to her? Why did he have this effect on her every fucking time? Michelle didn’t know, and right now she didn’t care. 

“You mean like playing mind games with Sherlock Holmes?” She managed to reply with a smug grin. That just earned her a little slap across the face. Michelle chuckled darkly and ran one leg up Jim’s, a playful smirk now appearing on her face. 

“You really are a bad girl, Shelley…looks like Daddy needs to remind you who the boss is here.” Jim almost purred as he leaned in and pressed a rough kiss to her lips. He bit at her bottom lip until she parted them, allowing his tongue inside. Michelle didn’t try to fight for dominance – not this time anyway – it was much more fun to let him think he had the chance to win. Mind games with the consulting criminal was quickly becoming her favourite pass time. Pushing any other thoughts out of her mind, Michelle focused back on Jim’s lips. She swore that she could feel her lips bruising from the sheer force already. 

Perfectly manicured fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt and peeled it away from his lean body in record time. She threw it across the room, half expecting him to scold her for not placing it somewhere neatly. Instead, she found him mimicking her own actions, popping each button on her shirt before tearing it from her body. Jim licked his lips and moved down to press sharp pecks at the sensitive skin on her neck. The bastard was almost surely leaving hickeys in his path, but she’d deal with that later. The brunette moaned softly, hips lifting up to meet his. Finger nails dragged up and down his back, creating a trail of faint red lines. She heard him suck in a sharp breath before feeling his hand around her throat again. Michelle hadn’t a clue when he’d found the time to retrieve it, but her blue eyes widened with a little fear when she saw the shining switchblade before her. 

“Hold still.” Jim warned. Michelle tried her hardest not to move as he glided the tip of the blade down from her throat. Is drifted over her collarbone and between the valley of her breasts. It was cold and she couldn’t help but twitch and shiver a few times, earning her a few sharp glances off the man before her. She fought the urge to twitch and wriggle as he slid the blade under her bra, the sharp blade making easy work of the lacy fabric. 

“That was expensive.” Michelle snapped, suddenly surprised of her own voice. She half expected another slap or something potentially worse, but instead received a chuckle. 

“You’re hardly strapped for cash, pet.” Jim replied before he pulled the shredded remains of her bra away, admiring the sight before him. Soft, pale skin marked with only a scattering of small, brown freckles and the offending red marks from Jim’s own mouth. Michelle’s breasts were picture perfect. Jim had always assumed surgery. Nobody’s breasts looked like that naturally. He’d never ask, of course, that would be plain rude. It wasn’t like he cared. Michelle could spend her money on whatever the hell she wanted. He would say she earned it, but he knew the truth. 

He leaned down and ghosted his tongue over her left nipple, smirking at the shuddering moan it earned him. Jim leaned in again, this time he took the whole bud between his teeth and tugged before locking his lips around it. Michelle was ashamed of the noises which left her. She whimpered, she mewled and she very nearly sobbed at the delicious torture. She squirmed beneath him, desperate for him to turn his attention to the throbbing bundle of nerves between her legs. 

“Jim…please..!” Michelle begged, hips now arching up into him, desperate for any form of friction. He merely pushed down on her hips and pinned her in place, muttering something about not interrupting him. She squealed when he bit down on her right nipple, back arching off the bed. This was quickly becoming more than she could take and Jim was loving it. Michelle Kray was usually so reserved and strong. But when he had her in this position, the domineering queen of crime was reduced to nothing more than a whimpering wanton mess. He loved it. She hated it. That just made him love it even more. Jim lifted the switchblade up once more and pulled himself from her nipple with an obscene pop. Fear flickered in Michelle’s blue eyes only for a split second, but it was enough to make Jim’s cock twitch in his pants. 

“You know what, Shelley? It would be so easy to slit your throat right now. Just a flick of my wrist and I’d rid myself of you forever.” Jim spoke softly, his voice full of deep contemplation. The length of his pause coupled with his intimate gaze on the blade made Michelle incredibly uncomfortable. Jim was unpredictable. He would very well just turn around and slice her open here and now. That was the fear and power that he held over her. After a moment, his brow quirked and he grinned at her. “But this is much more fun.” He smirked and placed the blade back in his pocket before shuffling down the bed, roughly pulling the brunette’s pants down with him. He discarded them on the floor with the rest of their clothing before turning his attention back to the lacy white panties she was wearing. Jim licked his lips and leaned down, taking out his switchblade once more. He carefully cut away the fabric, ignoring Michelle’s comments about him destroying her outfit. God, that woman never shut up. He pulled the shredded remains of her panties away and settled himself between her legs. Michelle bit her lip as she watched him press wet kisses and sharp bites over her thighs. He was doing this on purpose. He wanted her to beg again. She had known him long enough and had been in this situation enough to know how hard it got him. 

“Jim, you fucking bastard…please stop teasing me…” She growled, her hips shifting in his grip. Her groaning earned her a slap across the thigh followed by a sharp bite into the sensitive flesh. 

“Such a filthy mouth, Shelley! Keep it up, see where it gets you.” Jim smirked before leaning down again. He kept his eyes locked on hers, wanted to watch every little movement she made when his tongue dragged a painfully slow line up her cunt. Michelle sucked in a sharp intake of air and whimpered loudly in delight. Her face twisted in pleasure, her back arched off the bed. She really was desperate. Another lick lead him to her clit, tongue curling around the little bud before he sucked it into his mouth, leaving the queen of crime moaning and mewling for more. Her toes curled tightly and her mouth hung open, all sorts of obscenities falling from her. Jim wrapped his arms around her midsection and forced her hips back down. He would do this on his own terms. She would come only when he allowed it. Bucking her hips would be no good this time. By the time he started drawing intricate little patterns on her clit, Michelle was sobbing. She was actually sobbing and begging him for her release. 

“Jim..! Jim please..! I need…I need to come, Jim, please!” She cried, her hands gripping the bedsheets so tightly that her knuckles had turned pure white. Jim let out a groan of his own, his cock now rubbing painfully against his pants. He quickly reached down and pulled at his zipper, pulling himself free of his painful restraint before returning to Michelle. He crawled back up to her lips, the look of disappointment on her face such a beautiful picture. It was quickly pushed back to twisted pleasure when he slid two fingers inside her. His free hand wrapped around her throat again, forcing her to look in his direction. 

“He never gets you this riled up, does he? Your gorgeous Lorenzo? Does he make you anywhere near as wet as I do, Shelley? Does he make come apart like this?” Jim’s voice was harsh, sharp against her ear as he bit at her earlobe. Between his hand around her throat and her breathless panting, Michelle was lost for words. Jim’s fingers had curled and were rubbing relentlessly against her sweet spot. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head and she began to feel faint. She could barely make out Jim’s words giving her permission to come. But it was clear enough for her to throw herself over the edge. She cried out, muscles tightening around Jim’s fingers as she hit the best orgasm she’d had in a very long time. Michelle would surely kill herself later for admitting that, but right now, she couldn’t have cared less. She lay there for what seemed like an eternity, a sweaty, panting mess. Whilst she was lost in her orgasmic daze, Jim too it upon himself to stand and quickly remove his own pants. He kicked them across the floor before positioning himself back between her legs. Michelle only became aware that he had returned when she felt the weight of the bed shift. She sat up and pulled him down, pressing a series of rough kisses against his lips. Jim lifted her up into his lap and smirked against her kisses, one hand resting on her lower back, the other tangled into her messy curls. 

“Say it, Shelley. Let me hear it.” Jim purred against her lips. 

“I’m your girl…I’m your girl, Jim…” Michelle whispered, still ever so slightly out of breath from her orgasm. Jim smirked and nipped her lower lip. 

“Tell Daddy what you want, pet.” 

“You…I want you, Jim…please, I want you…” She replied almost a little too desperately. But it was exactly what he wanted. Jim always wanted her like this: a wanton little mess begging for his cock. All part of their little power play. All part of their game. Jim chuckled softly and teased the head of his cock against her entrance, revelling in the little shiver she gave. He gaged her reaction for a moment and waited until she was about to snap at him. As soon as she went to, Jim pushed his full length inside her, grinning widely at the loud gasp, the shocked expression on Michelle’s face. The sudden fullness was almost too much for her to take. Her arms wrapped around him, her head buried into the crook of his neck as she adjusted to his girth and length. The delicious pain had her seeing stars. Jim tugged on her hair and pulled her head back, running his teeth up the hollow of her throat before he started to rock his hips. He let out a groan and bit at the bruised flesh, nails digging into her ass. 

“Still so tight…now that’s unexpected…” Jim groaned with a smug smirk. Michelle responded by clenching her muscles around him and bucking her hips, eliciting a sudden, loud cry from him. 

“Arrogant bastard.” She growled before pressing her lips to his neck, leaving her own set of red purple marks in her wake. Michelle continued rocking her hips against his, rising and falling on his cock in a steady rhythm. The sounds he made were like music to her ears. He was trying so hard not to make them and that just made it all the more pleasant. Jim hated the things Michelle did to him just as much as she hated the things he did to her. A vicious cycle but it worked for them. Michelle let out a soft yelp as Jim pulled on her hair again, smirking before he lifted her up and lay her on the bed. He wrapped her legs around his waist before sliding inside her again, one hand now moving to squeeze at her breast, the other pressing painfully into her hip. She had lost track of how many bruises she was going to have in the morning. Jim continued his steady pace, Michelle’s hips meeting his thrust for thrust for a short while longer until he pulled away. The brunette groaned at the sudden emptiness and shot him a harsh glare. Jim was quick to grab her arm and pull her up and over. Her front hit the bed and she had little time to move before Jim was on top of her, pinning her to the bed. He reached under her and pulled her lower half up, before he pushed back inside. Michelle groaned in ecstasy, reaching forward to grab hold of the bed post to support herself. A sharp slap filled the air, quickly followed by a loud yelp from Michelle as Jim slapped her ass. She could feel his smirk burning into the back of her head. Fucker. He’d pay for this some other time. His hand tangled in her hair once more, pulling her head back roughly as he continued to pound into her with impressive force. None of their past encounters had been like this. This was pure, primal hatred. There was not even a flicker of false passion like there had been in the past. No more pretending. Now, they both knew exactly what this was and it wasn’t pretty. 

“Oh fuck..! Jim..!” Michelle cried suddenly as Jim twisted his hips. That twist had him hitting against her sweet spot again, coaxing her towards another orgasm. This time, she didn’t wait for his permission to come. Her breath caught in her throat and her entire body twitched as she hit her second orgasm, a series of strangled cries leaving her. Jim’s arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her upright, hips still slowly moving against her. He pressed surprisingly soft kisses against her shoulder, fingers brushing over her nipples with enough pressure to keep her aroused. 

“Been working on your stamina, Shelley. I’m impressed.” Jim moaned against her ear, one hand moving down between her legs to rub at her clit. He chuckled at the soft cries she made the second he came in contact with her sensitive bud. Before she had the chance to hit another orgasm, he pulled his hand away and pushed her forward, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste her wetness. Michelle grunted as she hit the bed again, a series of heavy pants leaving her as she took the time to recover as much as she could. 

“I could say the same for you…you’ve never lasted this long before.” Michelle smirked. Jim’s smirk vanished and he moved quickly, pinning the brunette to the bed. 

“You were being so good…but that mouth had to go and ruin it.” Jim reached above her and pulled one of the ties from the bedpost. The golden curtain around the post fell free as Jim made quick work of wrapping the fabric around her head, securing it in her mouth. Of course she protested, but that just made it all the more fun. He smiled and made a comment about that being much better before he spread her legs again and pushed back in. Michelle could hardly take this anymore. Two orgasms had her feeling incredibly weak. Surely she couldn’t take a third? But Jim wasn’t focused on her anymore. This time, he was much rougher, his hips hitting hers at a much faster pace, a much more erratic pace. He was close to his own orgasm. Michelle whimpered against the fabric in her mouth, her back arching off the bed until Jim’s hands grounded her again. His breathing was becoming more uneven, his thrusting chaotic and hard. Within moments, Jim was gasping and grunting, nails digging into her hips hard enough to draw blood as he hit his own release, spilling everything he had inside her. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out and collapsed on top of Michelle, pulling the fabric from her mouth before pressing several messy kisses to her lips. She kissed him back, curling her aching body into him, desperate for some rest. 

The two of them lay there for hours, neither of them saying a thing until Michelle rolled over and lit a cigarette from the bedside table. 

“You know I hate it when you smoke, Shelley.” Jim spoke softly, his usual level of irritation present again. “Makes your mouth taste stale…” 

“I hate it when I’m dragged off to foreign countries on the false promise of work, yet here we are.” She replied, placing the cigarette between her lips before lighting it. After a quick drag, she offered the packet over to Jim who begrudgingly took one. Michelle lit it for him and the two of them lay back on the bed in silence. It stayed that way until Jim finished his Marlboro. 

“You owe me an orgasm, by the way.” He hadn’t even noticed her move off the bed and head into the bathroom. Michelle stuck her head around the door and shot him a warning look. Jim climbed out of bed and gathered up his clothes. “I won’t forget.” He leaned against the doorway of the bathroom and smirked. Michelle matched his smirk and ran her hands through his messy locks before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

“I know you won’t. You never do.”


End file.
